


Spinning Madly On

by ThatOtherGirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Ginny centric, Like Super Ginny Centric, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Slow Burn, cause she's my girl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-05-15 07:12:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14785869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatOtherGirl/pseuds/ThatOtherGirl
Summary: Fresh off the heels of a broken heart, there's really only one thing a girl can do. Ginny decides to take her fate into her own hands and finds some surprises along the way.





	1. Chapter 1

 

The Weasleys were not known for being the most traditional pureblood family.

For a time, such a thing was tolerated, if not totally accepted. There were rumors of just who was to fault for this sudden change, but placing blame did little good as the family itself did not seem to care. Still, the pureblood elite held hope that this phase would pass quickly and soon be forgotten. However, as centuries passed, each new generation seemed to step further from their roots, their eccentricities increasing until finally they seemed to have abandoned wizarding social protocol altogether. With this, came the permanent fall from grace from their peers. As such, the once honored name of the purebloods Weasley became a label- a category of its own. Definitely too magical to be muggle and too knowledable of the workings of magical society to be muggleborn, but no longer in the same class as purebreeds.

Simply, they were just the Weasleys.

So it would have come as a jarring shock to all that had shunned them, that the Weasleys had indeed maintained a few cherished pureblood customs through the generations. The most beloved tradition of the family in question was passing down their ancestors stories, a way to span centuries and connect the newer members of the family to those that had come before. Some tales were full of wisdom, others of woe, even more of adventure and to the delight of many children over the years, there were plenty overflowing with mischief. 

With all the fascinating stories to choose from, there was one in particular that seemed to dim in comparison. Never requested and easily forgotten by the many sons that the Weasleys seemed destined to have. Still, the tale withstood the test of time, possibly only because each and every new bride to join the family found the tale to be full of romance and uplifting in a way that men would never quite grasp. 

This was a most fortunate occurrence, especially when after centuries of waiting, the unthinkable happened and the Weasley blood finally produced a daughter.

A mere infant, not yet old enough to understand the words, but soothed by the sweet voice washing over her as she was held lovingly in her mother’s arms, Ginny Weasley heard her first ever story of her ancestors.

As the story goes, Ginny's great, great, with possibly a few more greats, grandmother, Althania Praggert, fresh off the heels of a broken heart and overcome with despair at one too many disappointments in her short life had finally had enough. Taking matters into her own hands, the young woman snuck out of her upper class home in the middle of the night and after scouring the shadiest of wizarding England had found the answer to her problems. She traveled across seas and deserts in a daring adventure that involved sword fights and pirates- such details tended to alter with each story teller, exaggerated in an attempt to entrance the restless sons listening. Molly herself favored adding in a yarn about a stubborn camel that liked to spit- something that never failed to make her sons crow with delight. However, through the span of time, the main fabric of the tale had always stayed true to itself. Determined and headstrong, Althania had sought out a powerful wizard known for his old and unique type of magic. In a faraway land, the stubborn woman poured her sorrows out to the elderly wizard and pleaded with him to help her find a love that was true and made just for her.  Swayed by her heartfelt request, the powerful wizard created a device and sent her away with the promise that it would lead her to her heart’s desire. Within two months of returning to England, Althania Praggert became a Weasley. Old and faded pictures in antique albums tucked away in their attic spoke of a mission accomplished; a life filled with love and happiness.

Captivated just as the other women in her family before her, it became Ginny's favorite bedtime story. With each telling, she would be swept up in the adventure and most of all the romance that followed. Sometimes, she would fall asleep with visions dancing through her head of following the same footsteps of the brave Althania and try to imagine the wizard that was her perfect match.

Only a few short years later, the hazy image of her dream wizard soon morphed into a precise picture of Harry Potter. For Ginny was sure, in her 10 year old heart that he was the boy she was meant for. With her new found love, her most requested story was pushed aside for a newer, more exciting one of her own making. One that involved somehow winning the heart of the boy who lived. Surely, her young heart knew, that someday he would see that they were supposed to be together. It was a conviction that lasted through her time at Hogwarts, weathering a brutal war and after the rebuilding of a society. It matured and strengthened with each new milestone; graduating, moving into her own place, embarking on a career. Until finally the day she had waited so long for arrived. As Harry Potter slid a diamond ring onto her finger, Ginny Weasley knew that her oldest dream had at last come true.

 

 

Not for the first time, Ginny wondered if it was physically possible to die of heartache. Walking quickly around a group of her brothers children, Ginny continued to present the brittle and rather painful smile to any and all that dared look in her direction. Which was basically everyone in attendance at the Burrow. Her damn family didn’t even have the decency to let her wallow in her own misery or at the very least play along with her one woman act of _everything is fine, why wouldn't it be?_ Bastards instead all sent her pitying smiles and gave supportive shoulder squeezes.

Yes, she knew they were all aware that her strained smile was fake, but would it hurt for them to pretend that it wasn’t holding in a tidal wave of heartbroken sobs. Was that too much to ask for? Apparently not, as Hermione and Fluer glanced in her direction, frowns marring their pretty faces. When both women looked as though they were preparing to head in her direction, Ginny suddenly made a quick turn to her left and circumvented a picnic table of brothers- each looking awkward as they watched her progress with sad eyes.

Honestly, Ginny didn’t even know why they bothered with the cover of _such a wonderful spring day for a picnic!_ \- her mother’s words, not hers- if they weren’t even going to hide their true motives of checking up on her.

Having finally made it upstairs, Ginny stormed into the nearest room and despite the visceral need to slam the door shut, gently clicked it closed as to not alert anyone of her whereabouts. No doubt if she made even the slightest of bangs, the entire family would be upon her in an instant to offer hugs and words of sympathy.

One would think that someone had died the way the lot of them were carrying on.

She knew she was being ungrateful. Her family was being wonderful and supportive and absolutely perfect.

They had handled the entire situation with surprising grace. The biggest problem was that Ginny herself wasn't. She wanted to scream and set things on fire, then cry for a few days while drinking herself silly, and then promptly repeat the cycle. Sadly, no one seemed willing to let her handle things her way.

Her sister in laws and mother insisted on increased family get togethers and had most definitely set up some sort of system where Ginny was never actually alone- beyond her time at work- for more than a few hours at a time. Her brothers and father, all rather lost in this emotional minefield, had regressed into cajoling her out for sweet treats and games as if she were a child.

Not one member of her well meaning family seemed to realize that she just needed time and space- no matter that she said those exact same words more than a few times.

It was hard enough trying not to shatter all on her own, but with the added weight of her family to the mix, Ginny didn’t know how much longer she could go on pretending that her entire world hadn’t suddenly tilted upside down without warning.

Maybe that was the worst part of it, Ginny thinks. If she had some sort of warning, maybe she could have done something. Stopped it or even just prepared herself for the blow that was about to come. Instead, silly and oblivious Ginny had been happily parading through her seemingly perfect world.

Unwelcome tears slid down her face as she recalled that night seven months ago. She had been so excited when Harry had insisted on a night just the two of them. He had even left work early for a change! A sob escaped her throat at the memory of how Harry had delicately steered her to the couch, his eyes lacking their usual sparkle. She hadn’t noticed at the time, instead excitedly telling him of the progress of their wedding plans. She had been inanely asking his opinion over white roses versus pink when he had finally seemed to gain his courage.

If he hadn’t been so gentle about the entire thing or been so sincere in his agony at breaking her heart, then maybe it would have been easier. She could have cursed him and all the love she had felt towards him could fester into hatred. Instead, he had been his usual sweet and considerate self as he shattered her world and left her in ruins.

Breaths coming out in uneven gasps, Ginny shook her head from the memories of her actions after. With more time that passed, she didn’t want to think of just how low she had sunk that night. Or the days after.    

The sound of her brothers voices carried along the hallway, moving closer and in a sudden panic, Ginny scrubbed at the waterfall of tears falling down her face and looked around the room for an escape. Her eyes caught the small door partially hidden away behind curtains. Without hesitation, Ginny silently opened the door and crept up the stairs to the attic. While not a fan of the dusty and dangerously over stuffed space, Ginny found she was desperate enough to overlook its faults.

There was no way she could face any of her family now. Not when she was trying so hard to prove that she was ok. If she saw any of them in such a raw state, there would be no hope of maintaining any semblance of composure.

It physically hurt to look at her family and remember all the years Harry had been such an integral part of it all. Even before they were together he had been a part of their lives, and now, it was as if he was living a life totally separate. Actually, Ginny mused morosely, that's exactly what he was doing, wasn't it? He had moved out, and while she knew he still kept in touch with her family, he had thoughtfully extricated himself from anything she would be likely to attend.

Which was a shame since his attendance would have been the perfect excuse to avoid coming. Then maybe she wouldn’t be climbing over dusty trunks and narrowly avoiding a coat rack that was aggressively taking swings at her.

With a sigh, Ginny plopped down onto a nearby sofa, letting out a cough at the dust that spread around her in a cloud. If only Harry could see just how pathetic she was at this moment, he surely would have been relieved to have escaped her.

No, that was unfair. Knowing Harry, he would have felt so guilty he would have insisted on talking to her in a pointless attempt to make her feel better. But Harry wasn’t here. And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

Instead, Harry was on a tropical beach somewhere with his new wife.

Just the thought sent a pain through Ginny's chest. Oh how it hurt to think that it had taken him almost six years to propose to her, but only two months to marry someone else. Why was that? What was it that Ginny was lacking that this other woman seemed to have?

Didn't their six years mean anything? And the years before that when they were friends? Why not Ginny, when she had been so devoted to him? Why wasn’t she good enough?

These questions lingered under her skin, an itch that was impossible to scratch away. The only person that held the answers was Harry, and it’s not like she could have asked him. 

Oh, she certainly had the opportunity though when Harry had called her only last week to warn her of the sudden elopement. Of course he hadn't wanted her to be blindsided. The same way he had called to warn her two months ago when he was going on a blind date. She still remembered the guilt and comfort rolled into one during that brief and stilted conversation. As if he was trying to reassure her that it wouldn’t go anywhere. How wrong he had been. One blind date had turned into a second date and then suddenly they were all over the papers, the blissfully happy couple.  The papers had loved taking unflattering pictures of Ginny and splashing them alongside the radiant pair. How they had gleefully declared her the sorry loser of this break up. Just when the gossip seemed to become stale and the headlines were tapering off, the papers had new fodder with the surprise wedding.

It wasn’t fair at all, Ginny thinks. After months, she had begun to find a sense of balance again. While undoubtedly a mess, Ginny had been starting to slowly piece herself back together again. She had finally remembered how to smile once more, small tentative ones, but they were real and didn't hurt nearly as much as they had a few months before. And she was starting to joke and find joy with her friends and at work once more. No longer just going through the motions. Just as Ginny was starting to feel like she was going to be ok one day, the rug was pulled out from under her again and it felt like the first few weeks after the break up all over again.  

With a dejected sigh, Ginny dropped her head back against the couch and let out a squeal when the entire thing began to fold in on itself, crushing her in the process. Clawing at the material, Ginny pushed up from the arm rests with all her strength and kicked the chair. Apparently put out with her refusal to be crushed to death, the couch gave a mighty heave and propelled her into the nearest set of trunks.

Upon impact, they toppled over and Ginny covered her head from the avalanche of things falling down around her. When it appeared safe, she poked her head out of the safety of her arms and glanced at the junk surrounding her. Rather ancient robes surrounded her as well as old shoes and journals. Frustrated, Ginny tossed one of the shoes away from her, sitting up straight as something shiny slipped from it and spun around on the ground. Grabbing the object in question, she frowned at the metal object. It almost looked like a pocket watch, only it didn’t have an opening and was far too thin.

Studying it from all angles, Ginny squinted at the delicate engraving of flowers around the trim, wondering just what it was supposed to do. For there was no doubt that this object had a purpose. Magic seemed to thrum from it into her fingertips, making them tingle in anticipation.

“Gin Gin?” Charlie’s voice carried up the stairs and Ginny couldn’t contain her cringe. That was another thing that had made a reappearance in the last few months. Ginny honestly wasn’t sure why. Were her childhood nick names supposed to be reassuring in some way?

Without a second thought, Ginny pocketed the mysterious device and took a deep breath. It appeared her small reprieve was over and she had been summoned back to the concerned supervision of her family

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Obscenities and muttered grumblings drifted down the usually quiet halls of the Department of Magical Wards and Protection. While not a totally shocking occurrence to encounter in the high stress world of the Ministry, what _was_ slightly disconcerting was the way each member of said department paused briefly upon hearing the crude phrases and let out a small smile of relief.

To any outsider, the reactions seemed drastically out of place. However, for those that had been subjected to the quiet and subdued atmosphere of Ginny Weasley's office in the past seven months, the sudden change was a source of joy. The return of passion, even in the form of frustration, was a sign that maybe things were finally returning to normal.

Upon joining the department of Magical Wards and Protection so many years ago, Ginny had been a fireball of energy and ideas.

It had taken all of magical England by surprise when the newly minted war hero – as well as holder of the coveted title of girlfriend to the savior of the Wizarding world- had shunned prestigious positions thrown at her and ignored the more exciting endeavors sent her way. Instead, Ginny had eagerly jumped into an often overlooked, but extremely important role, of Ward Handler. It wasn't as flashy as the role of Auror or as mysteriously sexy as curse breaker- still it was a vital part of the work that both did on a daily basis.

To Ginny, it was a passion that she had continuously stumbled upon over the years until she could not deny that simply put, it made her happy. She had first discovered a knack for easily detecting wards as a small child- much to her mother’s chagrin when it was time to hide presents. Her time in Dumbledore‘s army had revealed that she was also rather skilled at creating her own- many even exceeding those that members of the Order could make. The day Tonks and Reamus had proudly declared this fact was a memory that Ginny still gathered strength from when faced with some of her hardest cases. It wasn’t until her hellish last year at Hogwarts though that Ginny started to realize just how crucial her skills may actually be. 

With Hogwarts overrun by Death Eaters and finding herself now in charge of a rebellion- along with Neville and a few other brave 6 and 7th years-Ginny had taken it upon herself to seek out the mysteries of the castle and find protection for the vulnerable students she was now tasked with protecting. She had quickly learned that not only was she a natural at detecting even the most powerful and subtle of wards in addition to creating her own, but she was also naturally skilled at unraveling those that she encountered. The work that most wizards found too complex, tedious and sometimes seemingly impossible was exciting to Ginny and felt like an intriguing puzzle that had multiple moving pieces.

The entire department had welcomed her enthusiasm, especially when paired with such skill, with open arms and within a few short years, Ginny found that the most difficult cases often found their way to her desk. Coworkers would drop by to get her opinion and she would venture out to fieldwork with glee.

Which was why, upon the brutally publicized heart break Ginny had endured and her withdrawn demeanor for the better part of the year, the offices had felt overwhelmingly gloomy. If questioned, no one would dare admit it, but there had been a few muttered conversations over drinks about adding some harmless inconveniences to Harry Potter's seemingly perfect life as retribution for breaking the spirit of one of their own. While Harry Potter was their hero, Ginny Weasley was their _friend_. Of course, nothing ever came from these discussions, and it was just a mere coincidence that last month Sally Salazman forgot to remove a blistering puss ward from a location that Auror Potter happened to be at. It was an oversight- because of course wards are complex and sometimes evolving things and no one was to blame for the simple mistake. Besides, there was no serious damage done. Auror Potter was fine, having only endured a week of vile tasting potions and oozing and itching blisters. The fact that it just so happened to coincide with the Ministry’s annual ball- with mandatory attendance for all Ministry workers- and prevented him and his new girlfriend- now wife- from attending was nothing to speculate over. Merely a series of unfortunate events.

Ginny, while clearly miserable, had looked rather relieved at lack of the happy couple. Which to the entire department, even that slight improvement was a cause for celebration. A satisfied grin crept onto Sally’s face as she walked by the office, watching for a moment as the very angry red head continued her diatribe. Unwilling to disturb the young woman, Sally continued on her way, humming a peppy tune.

“Stupid buggering piece of shite.” Ginny muttered at the small device in her hand. “Why won’t you listen to me!”

Letting out a huff, Ginny fell back into her chair and contemplated the item in question. For the last five days, Ginny had poured every ounce of her energy into solving the mystery of this magical relic. Anyone that was familiar with her many moods would have immediately been able to see that it wasn’t simply for curiosity’s sake either.

Ginny Weasley was on a mission.

One that had started almost immediately since returning home from that farce of a family picnic. Tired and emotionally raw, Ginny had finally convinced her family to let her to escape from the Burrow with the clear intention of promptly falling into bed to cry herself to sleep, as was her newest ritual. However, unlike so many nights before, upon returning home, Ginny stopped short before she could continue with her pathetic plans. As she was removing her robes, her hand skimmed the cool metal in her pocket and curiosity overtook her. It was a welcome feeling that she hadn’t felt in far too long.

Sitting on her bed, Ginny smoothed her fingers over the engravings, frowning as she realized that the flowers actually spelled out a name. Had that been there before? Ginny was almost certain it hadn’t, but then again tears had been blurring her vision at the time, so maybe it had...

_Althania_

Years later, when her own story was retold to younger generations, it would go that upon the momentous discovery, Ginny had gracefully jumped into action with a determined glint in her eye.

Far less impressive was what actually happened. Startled by the familiar name, Ginny immediately fell off her bed and landed in an ungainly heap. There she stayed for the next hour as she stared wide eyed at the possession of her favorite ancestor.

Tracing the name, Ginny softly murmured her favorite childhood story to herself.  By the end of the tale, there was a soft swell of hope deep in her chest as Ginny contemplated just what she was holding. Could this be the magical tool that had lead Althania to her one true love? Was there a chance that this whole time, it had simply been shoved away in their attic? It most certainly was a very real possibility as with most pureblood families, the Weasleys tended to cherish their family antiques- even if they were unceremoniously stashed away.

So if this was in fact the magic gift bestowed upon her ancestor, what did that mean for Ginny herself? It was a question that followed Ginny into a restless sleep. The following day, she had restlessly roamed her small flat, her mind a whirl of thoughts as her hand continuously drifted back to the pocket housing the small object.

It wasn’t until the evening paper was delivered with a sudden pop on her dining table that her fragmented thoughts began to form a unified idea. It appeared that the newlyweds were still a captivating topic, especially since pictures from the joyous event had started to make their way into reporters hands. There didn't seem to be an end in sight as far as Ginny was concerned. The wizarding world was fascinated by their savior's every move and as such, papers felt the need to report even the most trivial facts.

With a dejected sigh, Ginny watched a picture of Harry and his new wife, dressed in elegant wedding robes, grin at each other as if sharing a particularly amusing secret.  An angry sob broke from her throat at the image and with a shriek she threw the paper across the room. How could Harry possibly be that happy while she was so miserable? How was it fair that he had gotten his happily ever after and it didn’t include her?

Most of all, when was this agony going to fade so Ginny could have her own fairytale ending? She was so tired of it all that she would practically do anything to change the current state of affairs. Holding the metal object in her hand, Ginny wished her ancestor was here to sympathize with her. For if anyone understood what Ginny was going through, it was the desperate heartbroken woman from that tale.

In an instant, a flash of understanding washed across Ginny. Althania had been in exactly the same position as Ginny herself. Only, she hadn’t allowed it to dictate her life. Instead, she took matters into her own hands and made damn sure that she got the life she wanted.

There were many things that Ginny believed in and fate just so happened to be near the top of that list. Maybe she was meant to stumble into the attic that day. After all, what were the odds that just as Ginny was feeling the same despair as Althania once had, that she would find the solution to the other woman’s problem? She was sure if she asked Hermione that the brilliant witch could calculate the odds, however that wasn’t necessary for Ginny.

This was her destiny, it had to be.

With a sudden conviction, Ginny stared down at the piece of metal and made a vow that she would find her own heart’s desire just as her ancestor had.

So with a newfound determination fueled by hope, Ginny ignored the owls of her family and firmly sent away all those that unexpectedly dropped by. Oddly, they all listened to her and provided her with solitude. Ginny didn’t realize that it was the sudden reappearance of the spark in her eyes that allowed her family to breathe easier and provide her with the space she so clearly desired.

For days, Ginny had tried every spell she knew, and researched many that she hadn't even known existed. Still, nothing she did seemed to get the thing to work for her. Honestly, she didn’t even know _how_ it was supposed to work. All she had was a vague childhood story that didn’t provide any sort of direction.

Ginny might have been discouraged by her lack of progress or allowed doubts to creep in at the thought that it was only meant to work for Althania. However, she could feel the pulses of magic coming off the device in waves and oddly, it felt as though it was calling out to her in encouragement. It was rather impossible to explain without making herself seem crazy, but luckily she found unwavering support from her closest friend. Which was fortunate as three days into her futile attempts, Ginny found herself in desperate need of a pep talk.

“I see what you mean.” Luna said in her dreamy voice. Holding the object in question close to her ear, the witch let out a small hum. “Magical items have a spirit of their own. This one has been waiting for you."

A relieved sigh escaped Ginny's lips. "You think so too? I was sure I was starting to lose my mind."

Luna let out an airy laugh. "It doesn’t like being parted from you for so long.” As she reached over to drop it back into the redhead’s hand, her voice lowered. “Neither do I.”

Ginny’s eyes darted to her friend’s face and she studied the woman that she loved like a sister. How long had it been since Ginny had called Luna or merely spent a few hours with her? Too long, by Ginny’s calculations. Sure, the blonde had been there in the first few months of Ginny’s heartbreak, offering her support, but as time passed, Ginny had begun to avoid the rest of the world in favor of wallowing in her misery. Shame washed over her as she realized that beyond ten minutes here and there when it couldn’t be avoided, Ginny had not actually spent any time with her dearest friends. Far too caught up in her own despair, she had totally lost sight of what she did have.

“Oh Luna, I’ve missed you too!” With a slight pang of surprise, Ginny realized the absolute truth to her words. How had she not realized this sooner? “I’m so sorry! Tell me everything I’ve missed out on.”

“I’ve never been angry at you, just sad is all.” Luna’s blue eyes sparkled as she spoke. “I’m surely pleased to have you back now though. I think I’ll especially need you in six months.”

Ginny frowned in puzzlement at the odd comment, her eyes widening as she took in the way Luna’s hand lowered to rest on her still flat stomach. A squeal of delight escaped Ginny’s lips as she grabbed the other witch in a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you! Was Viktor through the moon?”

The blonde seemed to glow at the mention of her husband, nodding in response to the question. It had been a surprise to the entire world when eligible bachelor and six times world cup Quidditch champion, Viktor Krum, had married nobody Luna Lovegood. It was even more of a shock when the couple exceeded expectations and beat the four year mark. Many had lost good money on that bet.

The rest of the afternoon was spent with Ginny catching up on all the details she had missed out from her friend’s life while in her self-imposed exile. Before leaving however, Luna had spouted off a list of spells and a few unusual ingredients to help with Ginny’s plight.

Which was how Ginny found herself traipsing through the less than popular _Beetles, Bottles and Brooms Shop_ the next day. She had always avoided the odd shop in favor of Diagon Alley’s establishments, but as she needed more unique ingredients, this was her best bet. So caught up in making sure she had everything on her list, Ginny wasn’t watching where she was going and too late realized her mistake. Slamming into a hard body, all of her new purchases fell to the ground where she surely would have ended up had a muscular arm not steadied her at the last moment.

“Oof, sorry about that.” Ginny’s voice faded as she met a familiar smirking face and haughty gray eyes. “Malfoy.”

“Weasley.”

When he didn’t continue and just stared down at her with his infuriating arrogance, Ginny huffed to herself and bent down to retrieve her items. Of course the git didn’t even attempt to assist her, just watched with eagle eyes her every movement. Probably thought he was too good to do such manual labor.

“Either you’re making a love potion or are planning a moonlight erotas ceremony.” An amused brow rose and his smirk grew. “Both are equally pathetic just so you know.”

A hot blush spread across her cheeks at the implication that she would resort to either thing. Both were scraping close to rock bottom in Ginny’s opinion. The spells that Luna suggested simply required some aspects of each- which was not even close to the same thing as Ginny wasn’t attempting to sucker some poor wizard into loving her. She was searching for her one true love, not a temporarily manufactured feeling. 

Never one to back down from a challenge, Ginny narrowed her eyes. "Well how would you know what goes in either if you haven’t done them yourself?"

Ginny tilted her chin up in satisfaction at her argument. There, that would show the stupid prat.

Instead of looking put out by her words, his lips twitched in actual amusement. "I'm a potions master."

The huff of pride Ginny had felt just a moment ago vanished. Of course she knew that. All of bloody England knew that Draco Malfoy had entered the elite profession and excelled at it. Honestly, what was wrong with Ginny? Hadn't she actually had a conversation about this very topic with Harry, Hermione and Ron over dinner a few times over the years? Harry had been pleased that his former nemesis was doing so well. While he would never say what exactly happened, Harry had visited the Malfoy family a few weeks after the last battle and had returned with a sense of closure. Hermione and Ron had been of the same thought that Draco was attempting to prove to the masses that he was a contributing member of society in order to rebrand the Malfoy name. Why else would one of the richest men in the country enter such grueling training for a profession he didn’t even need?

“I figured it was just a rumor because if you were one, I surely thought you would have mastered a potion that would remove the broom from your ass." With that, Ginny spun on her heel and marched away with her head held high. She had more important things to do than verbally spar with Draco Malfoy.

The rush to get home did little good as Ginny found herself back to square one the next day. No matter what she did, the little device sat there thrumming with magic and taunting her with a lack of response.

Which was how Ginny found herself in her office cursing at the stubborn piece of metal. “Just bloody do something! Anything!” 

When nothing happened, Ginny gently rubbed the engraving and felt her anger seep away into a bone deep fatigue. "Please work, I don't know how much longer I can go on like this."

In a flash of blinding purple light, Ginny found the world spinning around her for what felt like ages. As fast as it had started, it abruptly stopped. She stumbled forward, grabbing a nearby wall as her vision attempted to right itself. What the hell had just happened? Looking down at the small object clenched in her death grip, Ginny felt the magic pulsing from it in powerful waves. Was it really that simple? All she had needed to do was ask?

More importantly, now what?

Looking around her, Ginny realized that for one thing, she was no longer in her office. From what she could tell, she was in the back room of an office. Or maybe a restaurant? From the sounds of lively laughter and the clinking of cutlery from the other room, she was leaning towards a restaurant. Voices closer to her drew Ginny’s attention and she realized she was actually standing in a small hallway directly outside of a private room.

Crossing her fingers that she wasn’t interrupting a delicate affair, Ginny softly walked closer to the room and poked her head out of her hiding spot, immediately blanching as two things became clear. The first was that the device in her hand was gaining in strength as she moved closer to the private room and thus closer to its inhabitants. Second, neither of the two men in the room were what she had been hoping for when dreaming of her soulmate.


	3. Chapter 3

Born the only daughter in a family of rowdy boys, Ginny had learned to be fearless at a young age. Being sorted into Gryffindor had been a given and felt like validation. As if the universe was acknowledging that she wasn’t one to run from a fight and never had been.

At that moment, however, the bravery Ginny was known for vanished. Her panicked eyes flitted between the two men, unsure where to land. It seemed she couldn’t determine which one was worse.

Surely, the device was faulty or maybe this was an elaborate prank? Because there was no way the universe would be cruel enough to saddle her with either man for a soulmate.

After all, hadn't Ginny suffered enough in her short life? She definitely thought so. As if her eyes had decided for her, Ginny found herself focused on the tall dark haired wizard leaning back in his chair, an air of superiority around him. What was it about Slytherins and their arrogance? Were they born with it or was it drilled into them growing up?

Either way, Theo Nott was the epitome of what Slytherins stood for. She remembered that horrid last year at Hogwarts and just what Nott was capable of. His stinging bloody gums curse was known to strike fear into the younger students. She had seen more than her fair share of students scream in horror as their teeth fell out in painful bursts only to grow back again for the cycle to continue. It had been a disturbingly nasty hex that Ginny had quickly learned to counter out of necessity. She could all too clearly remember the frantic hours spent with Neville researching various counters to increasingly depraved spells.

His father was also a notorious Death Eater, wasting away in Azkaban for the rest of his years. There had been many rumors over the years that the Nott estate held some very dark artifacts, but those had never been substantiated as they were unable to find proof. Still, Ginny knew that didn't mean anything. There were plenty of shadowy places that were amazing for hiding all sorts of dark secrets.

With a shudder, Ginny looked away and immediately regretted it as she took in the form of Oliver Wood. Oh what she wouldn’t give to avoid seeing that face for the rest of her life.

The memory of the last time she had faced him and the results of the disastrous encounter were a source of humiliation and shame. As she was sure they would be until her dying day. Sadly, she couldn’t even say that had been the lowest point of her life. That title was reserved for a far too painful memory.

Feeling betrayed by the universe and most especially the metal tool clenched painfully in her hand, Ginny twirled around and sprinted from the establishment, not even noticing the angry grumblings as she jostled tables in her haste.

The fresh air was a welcome balm to her feverish skin as she blindly stumbled down the cobblestone street, desperate to gain as much distance from them as possible.

Apparently the universe wasn’t through with her yet though as Ginny turned a corner and immediately came face to face with none other than Draco Malfoy.

“Twice in two days?” Draco lifted a brow and crossed his arms. "Keep this up Weasley and I'll start to wonder if that love potion was meant for me.”

A smirk crossed Draco's lips at own witty comment, but at the lack of the expected retort, his lips slid into a frown as he studied the woman in front of him for the first time that afternoon. Wide eyes and labored breathing gave her the appearance of an animal fleeing for their life. Unbidden, a sense of concern washed over Draco. As much as he hated to admit it, he rather enjoyed the youngest Weasley’s antics. Their verbal spar yesterday had been oddly entertaining and honestly as far as first meetings since the war, it had gone better than many others he had experienced.

Her entire body had started to shake and Draco found himself using his most soothing voice. The one he had all too often used on his mother during the war when Voldemort had laid claim to Malfoy Manor and its terrorized inhabitants. “Weasley, hey, you’re ok, you just need to sit down, alright?”

When he didn’t seem to gain a response from her, Draco attempted to take hold of her elbow to steer her. That certainly got a reaction. In an instant, her fire was back and Ginny yanked her arm from his hold and narrowed her eyes. Her chest heaved in a shuddering breath. “Bugger. I need a drink."

Well, that was certainly not what he was expecting. Draco wasn't sure why he was surprised though. The youngest Weasley never did what he predicted, not even in their Hogwarts days.

Out of morbid curiosity more than anything else, Draco followed her down the street to a nearby bar. Stepping into the dimly lit establishment revealed they were some of the only patrons. Probably a good sign for wizarding England that seedy bars weren't packed during the lunch hour on a Thursday, mused Draco as he sat down across from Weasley in a back booth.

Merlin, this was not how he had thought his day would go. Rather than be annoyed at the change in his routine, Draco felt anticipation at what the unpredictable witch in front of him would do next. For so long, his days were carefully scheduled and his social gatherings painstakingly crafted to ensure that only the best of the Malfoy charm was on display. It had been a tedious few years, slowly clawing his way back into the good graces of society. The task had been daunting all on his own, but his father had been correct that Draco did not stand a chance unless the aura of Lucius appeared to be distant and at least somewhat removed. While his mother’s actions during the final battle gave them some good will and confused the masses enough for Malfoys to claim the role of double agents, there were enough people that knew the truth. Those that would not forget so easily. Although their cover had been enough to spare the family from prison time and hefty fines, it did not sway the tide of public opinion. That it seemed, was Draco’s new mission. One that he had been quite successful at through the years. To the point that his parents were even considering venturing out from their manor in France to visit him during the holidays.

Still, even for all his accomplishments, there was still much more work to be done.

At no point did his plans involve day drinking with a Weasley, but as the first shots were placed before him, that’s exactly what Draco found himself doing. It wasn’t until the third shot that Weasley suddenly seemed to remember he was there. As her glassy eyes landed on him, her lips pursed and she tilted her head, clearly contemplating something. “Do you believe in true love?”

Ah, so this was a Potter thing. He should have known. Hell, even without the papers providing a rather painful blow by blow of the entire ordeal, Draco should have realized that’s where her head would be. After all, throughout their time in school, her heart filled eyes had followed the boy wonder wherever he went. It hadn’t surprised him in the least when Weasley had finally landed her man, she was a determined little thing that was for sure.

What did come as a shock were the headlines from this past year.  

Even Draco could admit that the majority of them were in poor form and had wrung the young woman before him out in the cruelest of ways. It seemed almost as if it was a game to find humiliating fodder that would send her into a shame spiral- one of which they had been all too pleased to capture the details of. The entire thing had left a rather sour taste in his mouth. Maybe it was because he knew what the sharp claws of the media felt like or maybe it was just common decency. He wasn’t sure and hadn’t felt any great desire to analyze it.

It appeared that Weasley didn’t require his answer anyway as she continued. “I do, yes I do. Soulmates!” With a flick of her wrist, another shot followed its companions and Ginny leaned forward as if ready to impart a great secret.

“I’m going to marry Oliver Wood.”

Draco couldn’t contain the surprise that colored his features, followed in quick succession by distaste. Based on what he knew, such a thing seemed nearly impossible and beyond poor judgement. “I hadn’t realized you were an item.”

A laugh escaped Ginny as if he had just told a rather hilarious joke. “Oh we’re not!” Her arm waved through the air in an uncoordinated movement as she slurred. “Hate that stupid prat, wanna break his bloody face in. Bastard.” Ginny waved her other hand, not noticing as the drink in her grasp splashed alcohol over the floor. “But I’m gonna marry him.”

With a frown, she gave a small and oddly vulnerable shrug. “I think.”

The redhead nodded a few times for good measure, as if the increasingly clumsy action would help her insane declarations. Draco stared at her in shocked silence. He honestly had no idea what type of reaction the drunk woman in front of him expected. But he couldn’t do anything more than silently gape at the confusing tumble of thoughts Weasley had just revealed.

After a moment, she stopped suddenly and slapped her hand against the wood table. “Or Theo Nott!”

While the first declaration had stunned him into silence, this one spurred Draco into action. Leaning across the table, Draco snatched the fifth, six? Shot away from her greedy hands. “You’ve clearly had enough.”

“Give that back, you bastard!”

His reflexes were faster than hers as he deftly avoided her grasping hands. There was no way he could send her out on her own like this, not only could it be dangerous, but he was sure this was just the stuff that would fill the mornings headlines if he allowed it. And for some strange reason, he refused to let that happen. Let the damn papers actually print some real news for a change.

“Alright, who can I owl to pick you up?”

He sincerely hoped she didn’t list any of her brothers or Granger as such a confrontation would not do anything for his reputation. No doubt they would blame the big bad Slytherin for preying on the vulnerable Gryffindor.

Staring blankly at him, Ginny squinted her eyes before clapping her hands together. “Luna!”

Nodding shortly, Draco snapped his fingers and the small owl from the corner flew to their table with the bar’s card. Handing the card to the swaying redhead, Draco waited while she clumsily tapped it three times with her wand. Once her part was done, Ginny casually tossed the card in the air, seeming fascinated by its twirling descent. With an amused snort, Draco’s keeper reflexes kicked in and he grabbed it midair before tying it on the leg of the disapproving looking owl. Draco sent it a fierce glare, he would be damned if he allowed the creature to pass judgement on him. Ginny for her part took no notice of the odd battle of wills, instead resting her head on her folded arms and yawning widely.

“To Lovegood-Krum.”

Ginny perked up at that and shook her head, her voice wobbling. “They’re so happy together. True love…gonna punch stupid Wood _and_ Nott, damn bastards…”


	4. Chapter 4

As a rich and famous Quidditch player, Viktor Krum had lived in mansions, castles, impressive yachts and private resorts. Over the top luxury was by now a familiar companion. So it would have come as a surprise to his adoring fans that his cherished home was a small cottage nestled between lazy rolling hills. Just a simple structure with a colorful garden and an overhanging porch where he could tune out the stresses of the world and enjoy the soothing presence of his wife. On most of his mornings off from his hectic schedule of training and games, they would cuddle on the porch swing that overlooked the abundance of blooming flowers and soak in the serenity that surrounded them.

When a loud groan floated out of the open window above him, followed by the telltale sound of mumbled curses, Viktor immediately understood that it was not going to be one of those mornings. The thought didn't bother him though as he could see the joy in his wife's face at her dearest friend's proximity, even if the other woman was currently grumbling rather creative curses at the sun.

Ginny covered her face with her arm in attempt to block out the persistent sunlight, however even that small movement added to the painful throbbing in her head. Abandoning her futile attempts, Ginny sat up and frowned at the familiar bedroom. She had stayed in Luna's guestroom enough to immediately recognize it, but that didn't explain what she was doing here in the first place. A quick glance to the bedside table revealed that Luna was just as thoughtful as she had always been and left out a bottle of hangover potion and a glass of water. Without hesitation, Ginny downed both and immediately felt the drums in her head cease. Once more able to think clearly, Ginny racked her brain for just what had happened the day before. As much as she wished otherwise, she could clearly remember the device working and just what the horrid results of her tireless efforts had been.

It felt cruel that the universe would think to pair her with either of the men in that room. She had thought the damn device would lead her to true love, not the sources of some of her worst memories. Maybe it was wrong? Or perhaps faulty? After all, it was centuries old. With a nod at her rationalizations, Ginny pushed down the hard ball of dread in her stomach.

There, that was settled. She would simply forget about this bizarre quest and none would be the wiser beyond herself and Luna. And Merlin knew that if there was anyone she trusted with her deepest secrets, it was the fiercely loyal blonde.

The thought of fair hair suddenly reminded Ginny of another, far less trustworthy confidante. The image of Malfoy filled her mind and Ginny let out an angry scream of frustration as her mind was suddenly filled with memories of an afternoon of drinking and casually revealing her bizarre thoughts. Hadn’t Ginny learned the hard way that she couldn’t hold her alcohol? Her drunk self was far too trusting and frighteningly honest. Mortification filled her veins at all she had revealed to Malfoy. Was she just a glutton for punishment these days?

Ginny was pulled from her self-hatred by Luna’s cheerful voice.  “Oh good, you’re awake. Did you sleep well?”

Without bothering to answer, Ginny stumbled out of the bed and rushed past her friend. “Where’s your paper?”

The blonde didn’t need to bother with a response as Ginny’s gaze landed on the pages sitting on the table. Trembling hands yanked them to her as she frantically scanned each headline, flipping through it twice before finally shaking her head in disbelief.

Nowhere in the papers was a headline declaring that pathetic Ginny Weasley was spiraling out of control in a quest for a desperate rebound. Confusion swirled through her. Had Malfoy not sold her out? After her shocking declarations the day before, surely he would have found it amusing to share her insane ramblings with the rest of the world. Only, he hadn’t.

There was no time to dwell on his motives. Time was ticking and it was imperative that Ginny explain precisely- or to be more accurate, threaten profusely- why he should keep his mouth shut.

"I love you! Promise we'll get together later this week, yeah?" Ginny waited only long enough to receive a smile and nod in response before she was apparating away.

Viktor walked into the kitchen in time to see the redhead disappear. "Everything is ok?"

Luna grabbed her husband's hand and curled against his side. "Much better than it's been in a long time. Care to join me on the porch?"

 

 

A startled shout from outside his office was all the warning Draco got before a red whirlwind entered his office, hair tangled and clothes rumpled.

His efficient secretary rushed in right after her, looking panicked and out of breath. "Sorry Mr. Malfoy, she just apparated in with no warning!"

With a casual wave of his hand, Draco addressed the stressed woman, but his eyes never left the intruder standing in front of him. "Thank you Portia, that will be all."

Clearly reluctant to leave her boss with the crazed looking woman, Portia was a professional to the bone and followed his orders, the soft click of the door behind her echoing in the room. 

As if that was her cue, Ginny suddenly advanced on him, both hands leaning against the expensive mahogany desk as she glared at her adversary. “Listen here Malfoy.”

“Oh, we’re back to last names? But I specifically remember you telling me there were too many bloody Weasleys and to call you Ginny.” Draco leaned back in his chair, enjoying the splotches of red that colored _Ginny’s_ face.

Actually, if her drunken memories served her right, Ginny had forcefully demanded that he use her first name. For some reason in her state of inebriation, it had seemed crucial.

“Malfoy. Listen.” Ginny growled, trying again.

Before she could continue however, Draco interrupted. “Yes Ginny?”

“Would you stop that?” How this frustrating man was declared one of Witch Weekly’s top 3 eligible bachelors, Ginny would never know. They probably had never attempted to have a conversation with him.

“Stop what, Ginny?” While his tone was innocent, his eyes revealed that he knew just how much he was grating on her nerves.

“Oh honestly, what are you, a first year?” An irritated huff escaped her as she stood up straight. Clearly her intimidation tactic wasn’t working, so why bother. For the first time since entering the room, Ginny looked around, her eyebrows going up at the posh interior. While the whole thing screamed casual elegance, it didn’t really speak for his profession. “I thought you were a potions master?”

“Contrary to popular belief, not all of us sit in a cold dungeon all day. Despite what Snape may have lead us to believe.”

Against her best attempts, Ginny felt her lips tug up at the dry retort. Finding the large space more than a little intriguing, she walked to the far side of the room, studying the little bottles that lined one wall. This was likely the only time in her life she would be here, might as well satisfy her curiosity. Her eyes caught one that was filled with sparkling blue smoke and she gently picked it up, holding the pretty concoction up to the light.

“As much fun as this has been, did you storm into my office just to poke around my office? Speaking of, impressive breaching of my wards.”  

At the lack of mockery in his tone, Ginny floundered for a response as she turned to face him. Never once in her life had she expected any sort of praise from his lineage. “A Malfoy praising a Weasley, what’s the world coming to?”

“Yes, I’m quite disturbed as well. Although it does explain the sinister horseman I saw this morning.”

A smirk crossed Draco’s lips at her snort of amusement. Ginny wondered when he had developed an actual sense of humor because she sure as hell knew he hadn’t been full of dry witticisms back at Hogwarts. Or maybe she just hadn’t been in the mindset to appreciate them at the time. Not that it mattered, Ginny reminded herself. She was here on a mission, not to trade quips with the man. “Anyway, about why I’m here. I wanted to make sure that you realized our discussion yesterday was _private_. Drunken ramblings you should definitely forget and never ever mention to anyone- ever. Otherwise there might be some very unpleasant consequences- for you.”

There. Ginny was positive even the most daft wizard would have understood the veiled threat in her words. 

“Ah, you mean about your impending engagement? I couldn’t share the good news even if I wanted to. It’s not as if you’ve even decided on the groom yet.” The grin on Draco’s face could only be described as gleeful. Ginny might have taken a moment to appreciate the way it made his usually sharp features soften, giving him a more approachable aura. However she was far too busy grinding her teeth in rage to take note of the change. “That’s extremely poor form you know. Especially announcing the upcoming nuptials without even informing either of the potential grooms.”

She had not resorted to solving arguments with hexes since her Hogwarts days, even in the past year when there were occasions that would have been more than justified, but oh how she was tempted in this very moment. “Just keep your bloody trap shut Malfoy.”

“Why the sudden secrecy? Second thoughts perhaps? But you seemed so sure yesterday.” The grin slowly slipped from Draco’s lips as his eyes narrowed meaningfully on the bottle in her grasp and his voice turned contemplative. “Almost as if you had a guarantee.”

For a moment, Ginny puzzled over his words until realization of his subtle accusation came to her. “For fucks sake Malfoy.” She hissed, stomping her foot in agitation. “I already told you I’m not making a love potion! If you don’t believe me, ask Luna.”

Just as unexpectedly as Ginny had arrived, with a quick flick of her wand, she was gone. Leaving Draco looking at the empty space thoughtfully.

It wasn't until she was standing in her own flat that Ginny realized she was still holding the shimmering little bottle.

"Son of a bitch."


	5. Chapter 5

 

Over the years, there were plenty of things Ginny learned to keep to herself. Not because they were dire secrets; simply that it just didn’t seem to be worth the effort. Living through a war had changed her perspective and somehow the small things seemed rather irrelevant. With a brother in the ground, a lot of things often felt trivial in comparison. So there were many little facts that Ginny just never felt the need to share with anyone- not even Harry. Most were so harmless really that she figured it was too much of a bother to vocalize. Which was why she kept hidden the tiny detail that moving out of the Burrow had been one of the most frightening experiences of her young life.

It felt irrational and silly to admit, even if just to herself.

After all, she had been possessed and then subsequently terrorized for the next several years by one of the most evil wizards the world had ever seen. And while that entire ordeal had been horrifying beyond words, this was a different kind of fear, one that she wasn’t able to overcome by rallying against.

It wasn’t that Ginny was afraid of being on her own, exactly, but of the seemingly endless silence that was sure to consume the too large flat with just her in it. Her entire life had been filled with boisterous family and friends, both at the Burrow and then at Hogwarts. Ginny didn’t understand how she would be able to find peace without the cheerful chaos surrounding her.

The first few days in her new place had been restless and lonely. She had busied herself, unpacking, decorating and planning for what she could do with this blank canvas. As the weeks passed, without realizing it, the cold and unfamiliar space grew into home.

Traces of her family and the life she cherished touched every corner. Pictures of those she loved lined the walls, the jacket that Ron had left once after dinner and never seemed to remember when visiting was on the vintage coat rack by the door, the spinning tulips Neville had given her a few birthdays ago floated above the fireplace and the familiar scent of her mother’s recipes so often filled the kitchen. While Ginny embraced having guests and endless activity, she found that once they left, relaxing into comfortable solitude was satisfying in its own way. 

It was then that Ginny learned that being alone didn’t necessarily mean being lonely.

Still, even with that new realization, years later Ginny whole heartedly celebrated the day Harry had finally decided to move in. As each of his things were unpacked, Ginny felt as if she could actually touch the life she had dreamed of for so long. Her heart soared at the tangible proof that it was real; their brooms sitting against the far wall together, clothes side by side in the closet.  And just like that, her home had become theirs. It was seamless.

At least, Ginny had thought so. Now after countless hours staring at her ceiling, doubts clouded those happy memories as she wondered if that seemingly perfect day had been the beginning of the end. Because only three short months later, Harry had left and with him had taken any joy her little home once held.

With the click of the door behind Harry, the silence that Ginny had learned to appreciate suddenly became the enemy once more. Still, it was the only companion she could bear to face.

The pictures on the walls seemed to taunt her and the people she loved served as nothing more than a reminder of all that had slipped through her fingers. So she shunned them all, in a fit of despair gracelessly snatching each frame, tossing them carelessly out of her sight. As the weeks passed, her closest relationships followed. Too twisted in her own turmoil, Ginny ignored their increasingly concerned invitations, unable to slip back into a life that now felt barren.

Now though, a little over eight months after the fact, Ginny couldn’t help but think she had gotten it wrong. As laughter and the clinking of dishes filled her home after such a long absence, Ginny felt as if the ragged pieces of her soul were smoothing out, no longer cutting her to pieces.

“So clearly it’s defective.” Hannah declared to the small group, sipping from her wine before continuing. “I mean, it’s the only reasonable explanation, right?”

The others at the table nodded, before predictably someone countered the statement. As had been going on for the past half hour.

“But how can you say that when we don’t even know its true purpose?” Neville reasoned to his wife as everyone else considered the issue.

When Ginny had invited the small group for dinner, the conversation centering on her futile little adventure from the week before was not what she had been planning. She had been all too happy to forget the entire thing and pass it off as momentary insanity.

Honestly, Ginny blamed Luna as the other witch had deliberately thrown the topic into the air for the others to eagerly catch. Not that Ginny could really begrudge her, and frankly had been just as happy at the swift change of subjects from earlier in the evening. While the joy of Luna’s announcement was genuine for all in the room, there had been a tightening around Hannah’s eyes that was impossible for the close nit group to overlook.

While Hannah would never begrudge anyone for the blessings of parenthood, there was no doubt that the news was a sharp prick to her bruised heart. Neville for his part had exclaimed in true delight at his friend’s good fortune, but never once had his hand left his wife’s own tight grasp.

Ginny’s heart ached for the loving couple, but as she watched Neville absently rub soothing circles on Hannah’s shoulder as she leaned against his side, Ginny felt with absolute conviction that they would get through this together. There was no doubt the pair would support each other, and through it all, protectively standing on the periphery if they were needed would be the rest of their little group.

Just as they had desperately tried to do for Ginny herself.

The way they had so earnestly tried support her filled Ginny’s chest with a long absent warmth even as she felt a pang of regret at how she had thoughtlessly rebuked their well-meaning attempts. It was with great relief that Ginny realized that not one of them seemed to hold it against her, as each one had eagerly accepted the invitation to resume their once customary Thursday night get together.  

“Honestly, are we really going to question it’s purpose just because we don’t like the results?” Cho asked, her elbow leaning precariously close to the plate of rapidly diminishing lemon bars. When Luna was the only one that seemed to nod in contemplation of her point, Cho sat up straight, her fingers lightly drumming against the wooden table. A true sign that she was prepared for the long haul. 

It was a telltale trait Ginny had learned early on in their friendship. It had been a welcome surprise to discover the steely determination in the other woman, something that was often overlooked in favor of her soft voice and good looks, much like her unwavering loyalty to those she loved. Not for the first time over the years, Ginny counted herself lucky to be in that category.

“Of course Wood and Nott are hardly ideal, but what if we’re writing Nott off too soon? Can we honestly say we know anything about him beyond his actions at Hogwarts?”

Neville and Ginny’s eyes met across the table, both remembering those dark months at the mercy of sadistic Death Eaters. That year was a confusing haze of fear and determination that had left a permanent imprint on them all.

Taking in the grim looks on her friend’s faces, Cho let out a small sigh. “I’m not saying that his actions weren’t horrible, only that the war made people do crazy things. Fear can turn a person into a stranger.” Cho’s voice lowered as her eyes grew distant, no doubt thinking of her childhood friend, Marietta. While Cho had forgiven the other girl’s betrayal of the D.A while still in school, it had placed a strain on their friendship. One that Cho had never been able to breach despite her best attempts. Marietta it seemed, didn’t feel the same and as far as Ginny knew, Cho’s only source of communication from her one time closest friend was through generically polite holiday cards.  Still, Ginny knew all Marietta had to do was show even an ounce of desire to bridge the gap and Cho would happily embrace the return of their friendship. “Maybe he’s not a monster after all. Can we really hold his actions as a frightened child against him?”

Knowing the conversation could easily turn into a minefield, Hannah let out a long groan. “Fine, maybe Nott isn’t a total soulless ghoul. After all, we haven’t actually seen him in ages.”

“Maybe his side of the story isn’t all that different from ours.” Luna’s gentle voice added for good measure.

Ginny leaned back with a contemplative look on her face. Perhaps she would do best to listen to the sage words of her friends. After all, if there were any opinions she was likely to trust, it was theirs.

In that moment, even though the man in question would never know it, Theo Nott had just been granted a very rare gift; a second chance.

It didn’t escape Ginny’s notice that the small group’s compassion did not extended to Oliver Wood. The thought made her smile. There was no denying that her friend’s were loyal to the bone and despite their forgiving nature, were quite capable of holding impressive grudges.  

Seeing the tide turning in her favor, Cho nodded in satisfaction. “Exactly! We can’t just discount him.”

“Discount him from what exactly?” Neville asked, once more bringing the group back to his primary concern and making Cho frown at her victory being sidelined. “This thing could have any number of purposes! We have no idea where it comes from or it’s intent.”

As Ginny listened to her friends start the debate yet again, a smile crept onto her lips as a weight lifted from her shoulders. While Ginny would always cherish her friendship with Ron and Hermione, she no longer felt comfortable bearing her soul to them. Neither had taken sides in the break up, and had painstakingly made a point of trying to be supportive to all parties, but both had always belonged to Harry. It had been that way for almost as long as she could remember and Ginny refused to strain the bond of the three lifelong friends. If such a thing was even possible in the first place. 

It felt good to share her burdens without worrying about loyalties, knowing that whatever the outcome of her quest the people in this room would unwaveringly support her through it.

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

A week later, armed with a newfound hope and her friends sunny encouragement, Ginny smoothed out the nonexistent wrinkles of her silk gown as she stepped into a large ballroom. Out of habit, her eyes scanned the area, taking note of which spots would provide the best defensive position or possible escape routes. It was a skill that had kept her alive during the war, but now served as nothing more than a useful tool to network the room. As this evening was about nothing more than simply giving fate a chance, as Luna so eloquently put it, Ginny didn’t bother immersing herself in the crowds. Instead she snatched a flute of champagne floating by and took the staircase to the split second level, positioning herself in the corner. It provided the perfect vantage point of being able to see most of the room with the added benefit of being out of sight. She hadn’t missed the hungry and speculative eyes that had instantly fallen on her the second she entered. No doubt all eager to bear witness to train wreck that had become her life the past year. It seemed her night now had two goals; find Nott to appease the fates, and avoid the clutches of the gossiping hoards.

As far as plans went, the wait it out approach was not Ginny’s style, as patience was not her strong suit, but she saw no other option than to wait until the a man in question arrived so she could oh so casually approach him. How she was going to do this without actually ever having had a civil conversation with the man was the next hurdle. One that she was willing to improvise when the time came.

Two glasses of champagne later and the pitfalls of her brilliant plan were becoming glaring obvious. She didn’t actually have any idea if Nott was even going to bother to show up. Sure, he had accepted the RSVP, Ginny had pulled a few strings in the Ministry to see the guest list, however that didn’t mean he would follow through.  Hadn’t she already learned the painful lesson that men could be unpredictable?

A sigh fell from Ginny’s lips as she realized she was going to have to venture out of her safe haven at some point. The second level was becoming increasingly crowded and from the glances being thrown her way, it was only a matter of time before she was trapped in a painfully intrusive conversation. Being on the move was the only surefire way to avoid that horrid fate. The Ginny from last year would have glared and snarled at anyone that attempted to irritate her, but now she was too tired and dare she admit it- rather fragile about the subject that was surely bound to be thrown in her face.

Chin held high, Ginny set a fast, but still polite, pace down the grand staircase. Sadly her dress didn’t get the memo about maintaining her dignity and caught under her heel on the last step. Muttering curses, Ginny hopped on one foot as she yanked the delicate material free, an increasingly difficult task as her other hand was still clutching her glass and trying not to add to the debacle by spilling everywhere. 

Suddenly a hand landed on her elbow, steadying her; allowing Ginny to finally wrangle the troublesome gown into submission. Lifting her head to thank the stranger, Ginny let out a groan at the arrogant face looking down at her. In an instant, she yanked her elbow free, ignoring that his hand was surprisingly warm for a cold blooded Malfoy. She watched as Draco turned his attention away from her face, eying the half empty flute in her hand, most likely recalling the last time she had foolishly mixed with alcohol around him. Ginny flushed at the memory, quickly banishing it and desperately filling the silence before he could mock her. “I’m not drunk so bloody stuff it.”

Cool gray eyes sparked with amusement even as his voice was aloof. “Ah _Ginny_ , belligerent and crude, the telltale signs you’re definitely your usual self.”

Ginny snorted and pointedly ignored his use of her first name. Hopefully after failing to get a rise out of her, he would quickly become bored of the new game. “I must have forgotten the part where you became an expert on _my usual self_.” She grinned in satisfaction at her mocking impression of him, not caring that it was beyond childish. Besides, it was one her better ones if she did say so. Too bad no one else was here to enjoy her efforts.    

A sigh of disappointment escaped Ginny’s lips when his only response to her antics was a raised brow. “Well, I happen to know that you don’t attend these events unless it’s mandated by the Ministry, so why _are_ you here?”

She had forgotten just how observant Malfoy was; always had been actually. That annoying skill had most likely ensured his survival quite a few times over the years. Now he seemed to be using it for the sole purpose of trying to best her.

“I happen to care about helping the…” Ginny trailed off for a moment, brows furrowing. Oh well, not like her excuse was worth the effort to begin with. “What’s tonight’s charity anyway?”

“Saving dragons or maybe orphans.” He paused, then gave a graceful shrug of his shoulders. “Or orphaned dragons.”

Despite her best efforts, a small chuckle escaped Ginny’s lips. “Your passion for philanthropy is inspiring.”

Without missing a beat, Draco smirked. “One could say everything about me is inspiring. Which most do.”

“Wow, such modesty. You really should learn to overcome that. Don’t be afraid to brag a bit. Otherwise how will we all know how amazing you are?” Realizing that she was quickly losing thread of the conversation, and in no little part, the irritation she had been carrying towards him since their last encounter, Ginny steered them back to the topic at hand. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”

“Since you never answered mine, we’ll call it even.”

Ginny grinned, not at all disturbed by the fact he had seen through her avoidance tactic. It was impressive really, as most of her family and even Harry and Hermione had often fallen into that little trap. When she was younger, it had been an endless source of entertainment when Fred and George would join in, usually resulting in their mother forgetting her initial point and throwing her hands up in frustration. She practically cackled at the thought of how much she would have to annoy Malfoy to make him follow her mother’s footsteps. It would be the most noble endeavor. “I’m going to assume that’s your way of saying you have no clue.”

Instead of defending himself like she predicted, Draco merely nodded. “No one here knows or cares what the excuse for tonight’s party is. See and been seen, otherwise, what's the point?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Hmm, lets think, shall we? What in the world could the point of a charity ball be?" Tapping her chin as if in thought, Ginny looked up at him with comically wide eyes before snapping her fingers. "Oh, that's right- _helping_ people. Or maybe dragons."

“If that was the purpose here, we would all merely toss our money at them without the grand displays and posturing."

As much as she hated to do it, Ginny conceded his point. After all, she had made the same cynical remarks to Harry over the years, albeit in a much more sarcastic- and she would like to think wittier- fashion.

“I can safely bet my vast fortune that we could ask anyone in this room and not one would know what we’re supposed to be rescuing.”

Ginny rolled her eyes at his blatant bragging. She wondered if he simply laid in wait until the perfect moment to casually mention his wealth. She was tempted to suggest he just charm a sign above his head declaring _I have more money than you!_  However, her sarcastic retort would have to wait as his proposition was much more fascinating. She was never one to pass up a good wager. “You’re on Malfoy.”

Surprise and something that looked oddly like anticipation danced through his gray eyes. “Living dangerously, are we Ginny?” Before she could retort, Draco continued. “Here are the terms of the wager; we both get to choose 2 guests to ask, when we’re done, we will find the hostess and determine if any of the answers match hers. If none do, which they won’t of course, I win. You will then owe me a favor. Do you agree to these terms?”

The formal wording of the bet itself was nothing new to her, having participated in more than her share of formal wizard wagers over the years, however her head jerked head back in surprise at his price. Ginny looked up into his face, trying to get a read on him. Out of all the things he could have bet, that was the last thing she would have guessed. What the hell kind of favor could she provide? It’s not as if she had more money or connections than he did. With a shrug, Ginny held out her hand and grinned when his enveloped hers. It’s not as if she had too much on the line, he on the other hand…

“Deal. Of course when I win, the first thing I’m going to do is paint Malfoy manor a lovely _Weasley_ orange. That would look splendid, don’t you think?” Her grin widened at the cringe that met her words. His disdain for the idea made it all the more appealing. “Lets get this started.”

There weren’t too many people in attendance that she was on a first name basis, thus giving Draco the upper hand when it came to choosing the participants in their little game. She wasn’t worried though, the additional challenge would make her victory that much sweeter. When her eyes caught sight of Nott in the crowd, Ginny bit her lip; torn at completing the bet or abandoning it in favor of pursing the true purpose of the night. It was a fleeting hesitation before she quickly reasoned that she could find Nott after. The temptation of the challenge was too strong, especially if it resulted in Malfoy’s defeat.

Ginny stood up straighter as she spied the best option so far. Mr. Brinkel was a good man for the job; around her father’s age and former Auror, he was bound to have an inkling about tonight’s affair.

“Mr. Brinkel! How are you?”

The older man looked startled at their sudden arrival in front of him, but smiled and rolled with the new development. “Miss Weasley, I haven’t seen you in ages. Why not since-” His voice suddenly cut off, before uncomfortably clearing his throat. Ginny’s grin turned brittle in an instant as she knew the unspoken words hanging in the air. Not since her father’s birthday party some eleven months ago; the same event that she and Harry had joyously announced their engagement. Once a beautiful memory was now a painful reminder. The guilty shifting of the older man did little to ease the sudden ache in her chest.

The game had suddenly lost its excitement.

Ready for the evening to be over, Ginny let out a small sigh and bluntly asked.  “You know, I’m not sure what we’re actually fundraising for tonight. Do you?”

Relief swept across Mr. Brinkel’s face, happy that the awkward moment was being overlooked. “I can’t say that I do. You know how these things go. Marla drags me along and I just enjoy the food.”

Malfoy nodded politely and Ginny was vaguely surprised that he wasn’t gloating at his apparent win in this round. Instead, he seemed vaguely put out as his voice was clipped. “Excuse us, we should greet the hostess.”

Ginny mustered up a farewell smile for the man and followed Malfoy’s path. Maybe he was suddenly just as tired of this night as she was?

“Your pick next, Malfoy.”

Without responding, Draco took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his elbow, leading her towards a beautiful blonde showing far too much leg through a bold slit in her dress, who appeared to be holding court over four besotted looking wizards. Upon spotting Malfoy however, the woman immediately ignored her admirers.

The blonde’s emerald eyes narrowed at Ginny before she let out a simpering whine. “Draco darling, where have you been? We were just saying how boring this party is without you. I’ve been especially missing you.”

“Yes, it looks like you’ve been beside yourself.” Draco retorted dryly. “I was just discussing how important tonight’s occasion is. After all, I don’t think anyone could argue that the proceeds are truly going to a noble cause. Don’t you agree?”

The woman nodded eagerly. “Absolutely, you know how I take it upon myself to help those in need. I would say it’s more than a passion. It’s a calling.”

For a moment, Ginny worried that if her eyes rolled any further back she would cause permanent damage. It was nearly impossible to bite back the mocking words that were so desperate to spill forth and from the amused gray eyes watching her, Draco knew her struggle. However, the bet was hinging on the vapid woman’s answers, so Ginny restrained herself.

The impressed look that crossed Draco’s face was so patently fake it was bordering on absurd, but the simpering blonde preened at the attention. Draco’s eyes flickered briefly down to meet Ginny’s before sending her a sly smile. “I wasn’t aware that you cared so much about eradicating the bat bogeys.”

A startled laugh burst from Ginny’s throat, the sound foreign after so long. Belatedly, Ginny covered her mirth with a small half hearted cough, before sending Draco an appreciative wink. For some reason, it was oddly touching that he remembered her trademark hex from so many years ago. Although, the fact that he had once been on its receiving end might explain his sharp memory.

The still unnamed woman nodded vigorously, clearly pretending Ginny didn’t exist. It was clear by this point that no one was going to waste time with introductions Ginny mused wryly. “Absolutely! The damage they cause is horrendous!”

Ginny shook her head in disagreement, finding it suddenly much easier to offer a sincere grin. “Oh, I don’t know. They’ve taken care of nasty little pests on occasion. Useful in my opinion.”

Before the now frowning woman could retort, Ginny pulled Draco away with the hand still tucked into his bent elbow. “Lovely chat, but we must be going.”

Neither bothered to wait for the woman’s response before they walked into the crowd. Voice smug, Draco leaned down to murmur. “Two points for me, worried yet?”

“Not even close, still two more to go. Besides you were practically spoon feeding her the wrong answer. Cheater.” Ginny muttered distractedly, scanning the room. A new surge of competitiveness was rushing through her system and she would not back down.

“That was simply showing a little finesse, but if you would prefer…” Draco pulled them to a sudden stop, tapping on someone’s shoulder in front of them. The woman turned and Ginny immediately recognized her as a Slytheryn from Malfoy’s class. She was pleased to note that the older woman had grown into her features since their school days. “Bulstrode, what’s tonight’s charity?”

The woman in question studied Ginny with curiosity for a moment before shrugging.  “Hell if I know.”

“Splendid, tell Tracey hello from me.”

“Will do. Later, Malfoy.” Bulstrode turned back around to her prior discussion, not seeming bothered by the random interruption in her conversation. Draco for his part seemed just fine with her abrupt dismissal. From their easy familiarity, it was clear that there was a long standing friendship between the two.

However Ginny didn’t have time to waste musing about Slytherin friendships, she had one last shot to win and the odds were against her.  

“Should we even bother continuing or just declare me the winner?” Draco pondered. “I wouldn’t hold it against you for trying to maintain your dignity.”

As if the universe had sensed her plight, the crowds parted and Ginny couldn’t suppress a wild grin. Her salvation was in sight. Yanking Malfoy by their linked arms, Ginny gracelessly dragged him through the crowds until triumphantly reaching her destination. If there was a moment she wished she could capture forever, it was the wide eyes and slack jawed look of shock that covered Draco’s face. It was a sight to behold. The true vision of imminent victory!

“Miss Weasley. Mr. Malfoy.” Minerva McGonagall studied the pair in front of her, suppressing her surprise as she took in every detail with lightning speed. It was interesting to note the way the red head grasped young Malfoy’s arm, and even more telling was the fact that he let her.

The casual touch spoke of a comfortable familiarity she had not previously been aware of. Judging from the many blatantly curious looks being thrown their way, not many others had been either. The odd pair didn’t even seem to be aware of the fact that the sight was causing such a stir– a very shocking oversight from the usually keen young Malfoy.

Very interesting indeed.

As a headmaster, Minerva often pondered the future of her many pupils- both past and present, but had never thought to even dream of this outcome. Then again, the bold young Gryffindor in front of her had been through a drastic emotional upheaval this past year. As for Draco Malfoy, her experiences with him over the years had shown that he had changed from the mean spirited boy she once taught. How the two had ended up not only in the same orbit, but apparently willingly so was a mystery Minerva was not ashamed to admit fascinated her. Not for the first time, she wished her old friend Albus was a witness to this sometimes strange and unexpected new world. There was no doubt he would have found this completely delightful.

It was clear that the young couple were expecting something from her as Miss Weasley was practically bouncing with glee while her partner seemed resigned. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Professor. Lovely to see you. ” Ginny’s eyes sparkled, a sight the older witch had not seen in some time. “We were actually wondering if you knew the charity we were supporting tonight?”

Minerva held back a frown at the unexpectedly simple request, unsure as to why her answer seemed so important to the two. “Of course, it’s to assist in the relocation of orphaned dragons in Greece.” In her opinion, those simple words should not have caused such a dramatic reaction, but the moment she finished speaking, the red head gasped loudly and slapped Draco’s shoulder while he let out a strangely carefree chuckle. It was a sound she had never once heard from the young man, but found pleasant to her ears. 

“Orphaned dragons, huh? I think I heard that somewhere.” Ginny sent a pointed look to her companion, receiving nothing in return but raised brows and a careless shrug.

As if suddenly remembering her presence, the pair turned back to the older witch.

“We thank you for the assistance, Professor.” Malfoy sent her a respectful nod. His overly formal countenance never failed to spark amusement in Minerva. No matter that she saw him often throughout the years, as he was the supplier of her more complicated potions. Only once had she suggested a more informal greeting, but it had quickly been met with discomfort and them promptly ignored. To be fair, it seemed many of her prior students had the same affliction, as none of the Weasley children- now young adults actually- or their friends could bring themselves to call her by her first name. It was rather gratifying to know that she had such a lasting effect.  

“Yes, thank you Professor. Your help was very enlightening. Excuse us please.” Ginny added, a bright grin still covering her face.

As soon as Minerva nodded her goodbye, the pair was wandering off into the crowd once more as they chatted animatedly, neither noticing the pointed attempts of other party goers to gain their attention- nor of the now thoughtful gaze of their former professor watching them with the briefest of smiles. 

 


End file.
